


A Place at the Table

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [136]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-12
Updated: 2008-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:11:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holiday hospitality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place at the Table

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flamethrower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue

Aaron Bernstein was overwhelmed. He was currently being hugged by an assortment of Mastersons and Prentices as he stood in the hall of Quinn and Ian's home.  
  
He'd been invited to stay with the professors over the Thanksgiving long weekend because his parents had not spoken to him since October, when they'd found out he was gay.  
  
He'd taken Professor Prentice's Chaucer class last year, and gotten to know him and Professor Masterson through LukeLoves, the university's LGBT organization. When he told the professors about his plight, they'd immediately invited him home with them.  
  
Luckily, his parents had already paid his tuition, as well as room and board, for the year. His quadmates had been understanding, so long as he didn't bring dates in. He had a part-time job as a waiter at Rex's, which paid for his books and incidentals.  
  
Now all he needed was to get through the holidays without thinking about his folks. The warm reception of the professors' family left him wistful but also hopeful. If their family could embrace them so lovingly, his own might learn to do the same someday.  
  
He found himself seated next to Quinn's parents and bowed his head when Mr. Prentice said grace. Ginny fussed over him a little, spooning him Quinn-sized portions with a grin.  
  
"Ian tells us that you're one of his best students," Ginny said.  
  
Aaron blushed. "I try really hard, ma'am. When I graduate this spring, I'd like to go on to grad school at Georgeton, like Professor Prentice."  
  
Ginny smiled encouragingly. "Excellent university." Her eyes softened. "I remember when Quinn applied to Bailor. That was all he talked about for months."  
  
Aaron looked at her ruefully. "And I've still got a few months before I'll find out if they accept me."  
  
"Good luck to you!" Ginny sipped her cider reflectively. "I'm sure we'll see you at Rex's soon, so you can keep us up-to-date."  
  
During a lull in their conversation, Aaron heard Ian's chuckle and looked over at his professor.  
  
Ian said, "When we were in Williamsburg, a docent told us that Ben Franklin wanted the turkey to be our national bird."  
  
Quinn nodded, a reminiscent smile lighting his face. "When you think of how many hungry bellies turkeys have fed..."  
  
His fork laden with turkey and stuffing, Aaron agreed completely. He had already volunteered to help the professors take most of the leftovers to the shelter in downtown Skye.  
  
After the meal, Aaron joined the others in clearing the dishes, then sat on the floor near Quinn to watch the Skyhawks game.  
  
During a commercial, Quinn turned to him. "Enjoying yourself?"  
  
Aaron nodded. "Thanks so much for inviting me."  
  
"We're delighted to have you with us." Quinn clapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"It's easier studying here than in the dorm. A bit chaotic over there." Aaron snorted at the understatement.  
  
Quinn gave him a knowing grin. "When I was in college, my roommates were interested in two things -- beer and girls, the order depending on whether or not they were already drunk."  
  
They laughed together, veterans of the dorm wars.  
  
Aaron said, "Sounds familiar. Things haven't changed much."  
  
After the game, the party broke up and Aaron was overwhelmed by hugs once more. Three separate invitations to the family Christmas party had him beaming. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he thought Mrs. Masterson hugged him a bit longer than the others.  
  
While Quinn refilled Sandy and Artoo's bowls, Ian and Aaron stuffed bags full of food, then they headed out to deliver them to the shelter. Aaron knew well that without their help, he might be in the same predicament and gave silent thanks as he walked back to the car.  
  
The house was cold by the time they returned. Since they were running low on wood, Aaron offered to bring some in. He went out to the yard and took a couple of split logs from the woodpile. When he turned back to the house, he stopped abruptly. Ian and Quinn were kissing in front of the kitchen sink, and it looked like the most natural thing in the world.  
  
Ian's arms wrapped around Quinn's waist, while Quinn's rested on Ian's shoulders. They leaned into each other, fitting perfectly, years of kisses written in their embrace. Eyes closed, they seemed to know each whisker and pore of beloved skin.  
  
He knew happiness when he saw it.  
  
This comfortable kiss affected him more than a passionate one would have. Their life together whispered to Aaron of what might be for him.  
  
He could feel their love warming him, even in the late November chill. Golden light surrounded them, illuminating a square of the dark backyard. He quickly stepped back into the shadows, missing the light already.  
  
This was what he'd always wanted. One special man to come home to. How could his parents expect him to give that up? What could be more important?  
  
After a few seconds to get his face in order, Aaron knocked on the door, the wood in his arms providing the perfect excuse. Ian opened it with a smile, no sign of the kiss beyond an added sparkle to his eyes.  
  
An invitation to his future, with a man of his own.


End file.
